


In Hospital

by camichats



Series: Happy-Ending Incest Fics [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Time, Getting Together, Incest, M/M, Marauders' Era, Sexual Content, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 22:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8941672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: Harry's back in time with the Marauders, and for the moment stuck in the Hospital Wing. It's okay though, because James keeps him entertained.





	1. Kissing In The Hospital

**Author's Note:**

> This is a reposting of Kissing In The Hospital and Fucking In The Hospital (from when they were deleted, originally in June 2016) now as one work.

“Psst! Harry!” 

He slowly came to, more because of the arm that was shaking him than the voice. “Wha?” he said groggily, willing, in that moment, to do just about anything to get whoever it was to stop. Fortunately, they did, but their hand remained on his shoulder. It took Harry several more moments to remember that he was in the past, and even more to realise this was probably one of the Marauders. 

“Harry,” they said again, giving his shoulder a slight push. 

He grumbled, but pushed himself up, feeling the hand slip from his shoulder to on top of his hand. He blinked blearily, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “James?” 

He grinned in response. 

“What are you doing here?” It was the Hospital Wing, and while Harry had no doubt how easy it was for him to get in, it did still leave the question of why. 

“Visiting you, you pillock.” 

“Well, yeah, but  _ why _ ?” 

James was close enough that Harry could see him roll his eyes without his glasses on. “And Remus says  _ I’m _ dense.” 

Harry frowned. Hermione had told him that he wasn’t observant, but he didn’t know what that had to do with this. “What am I being dense about?” 

James’s fingers started to smooth along his wrist, leaving a faint tingling sensation in their wake. “A few things I’d imagine,” he said with a smirk. 

Harry scowled and turned his hand over abruptly, grabbing James’s fingers tightly to stop their movements. “Care to tell me any of them?” 

James stopped smirking and was looking rather more serious than he did about anything that wasn’t about the well-being of his friends. He leaned in closer, pitching his voice low. “Do you really have no idea?” 

Harry gulped, cursing himself that it was so audible, bringing back a small quirk to James’s mouth. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. This was  _ his father _ he couldn’t kiss him; he couldn’t want him. But didn’t he already- NO. “Where do you all go on the full moon?” he asked, hoping it would make James suspicious of him like when he first arrived. 

Undeterred, James just got closer to him, bringing his other hand to rest on Harry’s waist. 

His breath hitched without permission and he became aware that his blood was running hot, too hot for comfort, especially when he was supposed to be resting like Madam Pomfrey told him to. 

But while Harry was internally panicking, James seemed calm and completely in control. It probably wasn’t even a facade, he most likely was feeling like the situation couldn’t possibly go a direction he didn’t want. Given how easily he ignored Harry’s inquiry as if it hadn’t been said, Harry was willing to agree with that. 

Their noses were nearly touching, and though a blush had overtaken Harry’s face, James wasn’t showing any outward signs of giving in, seeming perfectly content to stay at this distance until Harry… what? What was he expecting Harry to do? 

Harry licked his lips nervously, a spark of inspiration coming to him when James’s gaze flickered down. Surely he was bluffing. So if Harry kissed him, then he’d stop and they’d laugh and joke for a few minutes until he went back to the dormitory. Excellent. 

Harry considered just leaning in for the rest of the short distance, but that would give James nearly all of the control. He quickly put a hand on the back of James’s head, fingers slipping through familiar messy hair, and brought their lips together. It was brief, but so warm and pleasant that it shook Harry to the core that he’d enjoyed it. He’d barely leaned away when James initiated another kiss, this one longer, deeper. Harry meant to push him away-- really!-- but it was nice, and what were the chances they’d ever do this again? James was taking the joke farther than Harry thought he would, but that’s all this was. 

Harry told himself that over and over as James continued to kiss him again and again. 

He responded automatically, his brain not processing what was happening. It wasn’t until Harry felt a twinge of pain in his back that he realised how close they were and how tightly James was holding him, pressing them together. In the back of his mind, Harry recognised that he should’ve been chanting  _ wrong wrong wrong _ but all he was thinking-- other than how much he wanted to continue what was currently happening-- was that Madam Pomfrey would kill him if she discovered he was doing something she would classify as strenuous (Harry had a brief flash as he imagined something much more ‘strenuous’ they could be doing). 

Reluctantly but firmly, he pushed James back and eased himself away. James’s grip on him weakened as he looked at Harry like a lost fawn, and Harry wanted to cuddle with him for that adorable expression but held his ground. “Is something wrong?” James whispered unsurely. 

_ Yes! _ He wanted to scream, but not because this was his father and he shouldn’t be getting this involved in the past. He wanted to scream that of course something was wrong because James Potter should never look that uncertain. “Madam Pomfrey,” he managed to croak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for being here, and if she catches us…” Harry drifted off, not wanting to admit that he’d been snogging his dad out loud now that he was somewhat capable of thought. “Well, I’m not supposed to be doing much of anything--” 

“Let alone me,” James added, a smile back on his face and the glint returned to his eyes as if they’d never left. 

Harry blushed and continued, “And there will be time for it later when I’m out and, you know, healthy.”  _ What am I saying, we can’t do this again, say it Harry, SAY IT. _ He didn’t listen to himself and his mouth stayed closed. 

James’s smiled widened. “I’m holding you to that.” 


	2. Fucking In The Hospital

Harry couldn’t believe that Pomfrey was making him stay ANOTHER NIGHT. Well, really he could easily believe it, he just wasn’t happy about it. Extremely unhappy as a matter of fact. 

It was just one little curse! He’d  _ died _ before, a curse from an amateur was practically nothing (though it had hurt like a bitch when it hit him). 

The Marauders had all visited him earlier, which was nice, but now he was wide awake and left with nothing to do. Harry couldn’t decide if he was hoping James would return tonight or if he’d stay away. Given the all-but promises Harry had made to him and his whinging to them about how he wasn’t hurt anymore, it seemed likely that James would come back regardless of what Harry wanted. 

He was still debating his feelings on the matter when James started to appear, tugging the Cloak off and setting it aside. He had a large grin on his face, which wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary, but made Harry’s stomach flop pleasantly all the same. Now that he could see James, he didn’t understand how he could’ve been thinking only moments ago about whether or not he wanted him here. He was falling for James, hard, and he’d only just now realised. 

Harry smiled back at him, and James sat on the bed next to him, close enough that leaning in to kiss him wouldn’t be a strain on either's balance. 

“How’s hospital life?” James asked with a smirk. Gods, everything he did was with a grin or a smirk and Harry knew it would have disastrous effects on his heart, which wouldn’t be able to handle the constant strain. 

“Boring,” he said with a barely even voice. “I have nothing to do.” 

“You could do me,” James suggested, leaning in slightly. 

Harry groaned, letting his eyes close and head fall back against the pillows. “I set myself up for that one.” He opened his eyes again. 

“You really did,” James agreed, resting his hand on the opposite side of Harry from where he was sitting, forming a somewhat protective, somewhat sexual pose. 

Harry’s heartbeat quickened and he knew that he didn’t care that this was his father. Fuck incest, fuck what everyone would think if they found out. Hermione had told him that he deserved to be happy, especially with everything he’d been through, and while she never could have predicted this, Harry decided to take her advice and not let these opportunities for happiness pass him by. 

He slung an arm over James’s shoulder and curled so he could play with his hair. “Well?” he said, raising an eyebrow and trying to seem expectant. He’d probably never be able to pull this sort of thing off with the suaveness and ease that Sirius did, but he was trying. 

James’s amused expression reflected Harry’s thoughts. He shifted his hand from the bed to have his finger tracing circles in the area that couldn’t be distinguished as hip, arse, or thigh, but rather a combination of all three. “One exception.” 

“Hm?” Harry replied, his mind quickly scrambling even though James hadn’t really touched him yet. 

“ _ I _ get to do  _ you _ .” There was still the ever-present spark in his eye that indicated his good mood, but his expression held nothing to make Harry doubt his seriousness. 

Harry would’ve been shocked if James couldn’t hear his heart stop and then resume double time. The only answer Harry gave was to kiss James, hard and warm, wet and desperate. It made both of their cocks start to harden and their blood thrum. 

The fingers that had been drawing circles on Harry’s hip/arse/thigh trailed up the hem of his shirt and grazed the warm skin underneath. James flattened his hand and moaned into Harry’s mouth. 

Harry had to stop the kiss to breath, but found it stolen from him when James’s mouth took interest in his neck. His fingers wound into James’s shirt and bunched up the fabric more when something happened that he particularly liked. 

James discovered that Harry went mad when he used the slightest bit of teeth, and then he couldn’t help himself from sucking on his leaping pulse. He reveled in the fact that this was Harry, that he could make his heart pound and his breath go erratic. 

“Off,” Harry said faintly, barely able to gather his wits enough to say it. 

James pulled back immediately, hoping against hope that Harry wasn’t saying he wanted James off of him. “What?” 

Harry’s hands tugged up on James’s shirt which had risen to his midriff because of them. “Off,” he repeated. 

James, still confused and not wanting to misinterpret, didn’t move. 

Harry sighed aggravatedly and started to do it himself until James got with the program and helped. Once the offending piece of clothing was gone, Harry’s eyes hungrily roamed over the dark skin and toned muscles-- more toned than anyone their age had any right to be-- before flattening his palms on James’s chest, feeling it rise and fall rapidly with his breaths. 

(He also saw James’s erection and tried not to focus on it too much so he wouldn’t end up begging James to fuck him. Although honestly, he wouldn’t mind begging as long as it happened.)

He brought one hand higher to pull James in for another kiss at the same he moved the other to his waist. James’s own hand on Harry’s skin went low, to the small of his back and pressed, bringing their bodies together. 

It didn’t take long for James to lose his patience with Harry’s shirt and he practically ripped it off, cursing lightly when he finally felt their bare chests against each other. Harry was smaller than him, but he still had muscle from being Seeker--  _ Best one we’ve ever had _ , the back of James’s head reminded him. 

James’s kisses were growing fiercer, and Harry was trying to give him what he was demanding but could tell that he was falling short even though he couldn’t see how they could be more than what they were. 

Somewhere along the way the mountain of pillows behind Harry had been toppled, allowing them to lay down, and Harry understood what James had been asking for when he slid one of his legs between Harry’s and a loud moan escaped him. 

He froze then, putting his hands on James’s shoulders to get him to stop as he listened for Madam Pomfrey. Nothing. Harry reached for his wand on the bedside table, fingers scuttling for purchase before he cast a silencing charm and some privacy spells. He still had a grip on it when he resumed snogging James, both hands sliding along his back. 

“Are you going to put down your wand?” James asked breathlessly. 

Harry ground up against his leg. “No.” 

James kissed him and chuckled, speaking between short kisses. “That- was- terrible.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed shamelessly. The hand not holding his wand (yes the real one) quested to James’s waistband, fingers peeking under it hesitantly asking for permission. 

James stood and stripped off his pyjama bottoms and pants in one go, helping Harry with his and tossing them to the side. For a moment, they just stared at each other: flushed, breathing heavily, and Merlin, so hard they felt like they would burst. James pressed his hand lightly to Harry’s exposed skin, entranced as he left a tingling trail from Harry’s knee to his shoulder and back again. 

The gesture was so tender,  _ James _ looked so tender right then that Harry started to shake from the intensity. On the hand’s third trip, Harry caught it and turned it over, spelling lube into James’s palm then dropping his wand to the side (vaguely hearing it hit the floor with a clack) and drawing his knees up in open invitation. 

James’s eyes were immediately drawn to his entrance and licked his lips unconsciously. He climbed back onto the bed between Harry’s spread legs with wide blown pupils. “You sure?” 

Harry huffed a laugh, sounding more like a powerful exhale than anything else. “Are you kidding? I’m hoping you’ll fuck me so hard I can’t think of anything else for a week.” 

That was when all coherent thought stopped for James. He slicked up a finger and eased it in, simultaneously eager to move forward and desperate to remain where they were. 

Harry had been vocal before about his pleasure, but it was nothing compared to now, where he was keeping up a near constant stream of babble as James added a second finger. “Oh fuck, so good- James- oh gods, oh gods- fuck- fuck fuck fuck yes- Ja-” His breath caught when a third finger entered him and the ‘a’ in James’s name was drawn out as Harry whined it and moaned wantonly for him as he found his prostate. Harry started moving back on his fingers, wanting so badly to be fucked by him. 

James pulled out his fingers and Harry whimpered at the loss. He was about to demand… well,  _ something _ , when he felt a lubed hand close around his erection and a mouth hard against his own. James sucked on his bottom lip for a long moment before he pulled back, positioned himself, and started entering Harry, swearing at the tightness and the heat the enveloped him. He made the mistake of looking down at Harry when he was in balls deep, knowing that he was so close already. 

He took fortifying breaths as Harry adjusted, determined that this not be done with like it was just a quickie in a closet. 

“Move,” Harry said, voice strangled. 

James did a few shallow thrusts that made Harry’s breath come out in puffs, then followed it by pulling nearly entirely out and slamming back in, and continuing to do so, overtaken by lust as Harry screamed. He kept adjusting his angle, seeking out Harry’s prostate. Harry’s scream got caught in his throat when James found it, arching almost against his will. 

James’s fingers tightened on Harry’s hips, nails digging into the sweaty skin as he increased the pace, and feeling Harry’s doing the same to his back in response. 

James could tell Harry was close because he’d stopped screaming, the noises looking and sounding stuck in his throat as he looked so overwhelmed by the sensations that it left no room for them to pass. James readjusted his grip on Harry’s hip and snaked a hand between them, pumping Harry in time to his thrusts as best he could. 

It didn’t take long for Harry to arch and give a hoarse cry, his inner walls tightening convulsively around James as he saw stars. And when faced with that feeling around his cock and the sight of Harry orgasming, it only took a few more thrusts for James to come as well. 

He tried not to collapse on Harry afterwards, but he was weak and shaking and couldn’t really help it. As soon as he had the presence of mind to, he slowly pulled out of Harry and moved so he wasn’t crushing him. He studied Harry’s face while he laid on his side, waiting for the glazed look to leave his eyes. 

“You’re a bastard,” Harry said. “I said I wanted to think of this for a week, not a month.” He chuckled weakly, then added, “That was…” 

“I know.” 

“So, er, doing this again?” 

James raised his head to look at him incredulously. “Not right now!” 

Harry started to laugh then, the kind where it was funny but after a bit he was laughing because of some connection to another thought that only he knew. “I wouldn’t be able to even if you could. I meant, like tomorrow. This weekend. Sometime in the future.” 

“Yeah,” James said, pulling Harry flush against him. “Definitely many, many,  _ many _ ‘sometime’s in the future.” 


End file.
